This past Sunday I worshiped at Faith UMC in Grain Valley. This church in my district was one of two that had been selected at "teaching churches" for the School for Congregational Development, sponsored by the General Board of Discipleship and Church of the Resurrection. The pastor, Dave Hackett is preaching a series on the 12 disciples...this week it was Nathanael. David described something I had never heard before about that fig tree...the houses of that time were one room, and could get pretty crowded. Privacy was nearly non existent. It was the habit of persons who constructed those houses to plant a fig tree at the front of the house, not only for the fruit, but also because it provided a private place of shelter when a family member wanted to get away. When Jesus told Nathanael that he had seen him "under the fig tree before Philip called him," (John 1: 48) it was more than just having seen him along the way someplace or in a crowd. It was as if Jesus said to Nathanael, "I saw you in the place where you seek to be yourself; I saw you there, and knew you; I saw you there and saw no conceit." It got me to thinking---what fig tree which I call my own did Jesus see me under today? Did he see me under my d.s. fig tree, sitting in my office, trying to figure out the charge conference schedule? Did he see me under my mothering fig tree as I paid tuition for my daughter's first college class? Did he see me under my obsessive fig tree this evening as I searched ebay for that perfect mid century modern cranberry love seat I have in mind but have not found? Does he see me right now under my blogging fig tree, writing about fig trees? What I find so remarkably grace-filled is that Jesus has seen me under all the trees of my life, and knows me, and even though that phrase which he uses to describe Nathanael "without any guile" may not be the one that always describes me, Jesus knows better than I do who I really am, and he calls me to all these roles, and I am so so grateful. Thank you Rev. Hackett, for helping me know in a new and beautiful way, the prevenient grace of Christ, who knows us and loves us before we ever seek him.